


loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

by IvyPrincess



Series: just a thought [18]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Detective Noir, Dubious Morality, M/M, Murder, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyPrincess/pseuds/IvyPrincess
Summary: Detective Park's seen many a gruesome crime in his career, but not like this. Never like this.
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Series: just a thought [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722790
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

Loyalty was an amusing concept to consider when there were still glass shards crunching beneath his boots, a single figure swinging carefree around the pole mounted in the center of the room, bodies splayed in the various couches scattered throughout the room in various states of disarray, unassuming if not for the sticky red pooling beneath their limp fingertips. The music has long since stopped, both the speakers and the screams, and the hiss of his lighter is loud in the disrespectful silence.

Jisung silently regards the madman gyrating on the table, cigarette smoke meandering over to announce his presence for him. The star of the macabre show doesn’t turn even at Jisung’s slow applause, instead flinging his body backwards with preternatural grace until he lands in a feline crouch at Jisung’s feet, one hand dragging through grime and blood and glass as he rises up and plucks the fag out from between Jisung’s teeth, flicking it carelessly behind him, dismissive even as the puddle of alcohol it lands in blazes up immediately, hellfire glow flickering in the madness already pooling deep in his eyes.

“No smoking,” Chenle announces. He’s a devil like this, and Jisung has never been closer to rapture. Sirens wail faintly in the distance. The Six wasn’t an insignificant club, and this would be far from the first firestorm it had weathered in its long, intrepid history. Quite literally this time, it seems, flames languidly licking their way up the walls. But Jisung makes no move to leave.Chenle pouts in displeasure at the lapse in attention.

“Don’t you like my present, Sungie?” The madman coos sweetly, daintily stepping even closer, balancing himself on the toes of Jisung’s boots. Bare, rust-stained elbows come up to rest on Jisung’s shoulders.

At least the blood’s dried this time. Not as much staining.

“The police are on their way,” Jisung responds. He doesn’t ask the questions Chenle wants him to. Why should he? He has the answers already, carelessly tossed across couches, bleeding out over tables, hanging limply from the bar.

Chenle pouts again, but there’s a heated promise behind those fire-mad eyes now. There’s blood on the edge of his teeth, like that crimson mouth is spilling presumptuously into space not their own. “You said you didn’t like the crime rates around town,” Chenle singsongs. “You’ll keep the boys off my back, won’t you?”

He leans even closer, sticky cherry lips nipping at the curve of Jisung’s ear, even as the sirens shriek louder, even as the world topples brick by crashing brick around them.

Chenle smells of sugar, faint and proper, nothing like the carnage he drapes around Jisung’s neck, velvet noose tightening by the day.

_“You’ll stay loyal, won’t you?”_


End file.
